


Spilling The Beans (And The Brownie Mix. They're Everywhere, It's A Mess.)

by DontOffendTheBees



Series: Food For Thought: A Step-By-Step Guide To Confession Via Confection [2]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Baking, Brownies, Demisexuality, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Relationship Discussions, demi!Dirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 20:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10647549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontOffendTheBees/pseuds/DontOffendTheBees
Summary: 'There was, however, one key detail that didn’t quite fit with any of those theories. And that was that Todd, whenever he cut one of their kisses short, did not look disgusted, happy, neutral or anything of the sort. Maybe it was just Dirk reading him all wrong, but most of the time Todd just looked disappointed. But if he was disappointed that they’d stopped, then why did he keep stopping them? Trying to puzzle it out was, quite frankly, doing Dirk’s head in, even a week later.No, he needed answers, and he needed them from Todd. But how to get Todd, an emotionally closed-off grouch (in the best possible way!) to stop avoiding the matter and talk to him-He sprang to his feet, startling both of his bored-to-near-catatonia co-workers into wakefulness. “Brownies!”'In which Dirk and Todd reunite to bake stake-out snacks, and navigate the choppy and confusing waters of their new sort-of relationship thingy. Sequel to Blood Is Thicker Than Water, but can be read as stand-alone. Fluffy, mildly angsty, pg-13 but contains steamy make-outs, discussions of sex and implied off-screen sexual content.





	Spilling The Beans (And The Brownie Mix. They're Everywhere, It's A Mess.)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I made it a series! Which I probably shouldn't have because this was just... so fucking hard to write for some reason? I think my concentration's just at an all-time low rn.
> 
> Anyway! This is technically a sequel to Blood Is Thicker Than Water, but it'll work well enough as a stand-alone if you didn't read that. All you really need to know is Todd and Dirk did some tipsy 3am baking, made a huge mess and kissed a lot. This is kinda the follow up 'what are we' fic, featuring confused demi!Dirk and self-sabotaging!Todd. There's discussions of sex, steamy make-outs and implied off-screen sex stuff but nothing explicit, it's very pg-13- Keith don't do the smuts.
> 
> Enjoy!

If asked what the best idea he’d ever had was (not that anyone ever asked him any such thing, but he could live in hope), Dirk would forever and ever defend his idea to bake Farah Black a batch of cheer-up cookies at 3am in Todd’s apartment. Not because of the cookies themselves- no, those had turned out virtually inedible, although they _had_ done their job of cheering up Farah so they couldn’t be called a total loss. No, the cookies were irrelevant. But in the aftermath of a string of culinary mishaps and slightly childish food fights, something _wonderful_ had happened.

Todd Brotzman _kissed_ him.

One kiss alone would have been enough to solidify the idea in his mind as at least somewhere in the top five best ideas ever. But then there’d been _another_ kiss. And another. And then more, scattered intermittently over the following days and weeks. All different kinds, too- sweet, sleepy ones when Dirk dragged himself (late) into the office every morning. Fleeting, thoughtless ones when Todd got up and left to get them coffee. Long, slow, lazy ones on the couch in the evening that made Dirk feel like his blood was simmering on a low, pleasant heat in his veins. There was even one, a week ago, when a case had been solved and a very stabby situation narrowly survived, where Todd pinned him to the door of his apartment and kissed him with an intensity that made his toes curl and his heart all but pound out of his chest. That… might be his favourite so far, actually. And reason number one why Cheer-Up-Farah Cookies was his best idea to date.

The only downside to the kisses, in fact, was that they ended.

And eighty-ish percent of the time, it was Todd that ended them. Often when it seemed to Dirk like things were getting rather more interesting.

Not that kissing Todd wasn’t an interesting thing in its own right- in fact, he found a well-timed kiss from Todd could distract him from the many strings and pulleys of the universe’s inner workings for actual _minutes_ at any given moment. But sometimes it looked like things were about to get even _more_ distracting in the best possible way. Sometimes hands wandered, under shirts and over thighs, lingering with intent. The Door Kiss, especially, had felt like it was destined for greater things. His hands had been low enough on Todd’s hips that he might as well just call a spade a spade and say he was cupping his arse, and Todd’s had been softly stroking through his hair. Until they weren’t softly doing anything anymore because they were _gripping,_ tugging his entire head back and exposing his neck to Todd’s roving lips as they kissed a burning trail up the column of his throat. That had been… very distracting indeed. He’d been rather eager to see what would happen next.

What happened next, as it turned out, was Todd pulling away, lips the most perfectly tempting shade of kiss-swollen pink, and _apologising._ Dirk could do nothing but stare in abject shock and confusion as Todd sheepishly reached up to straighten his collar and tie, mentioned something about coffee, and disappeared to the kitchen without so much as a backwards glance. Baffling! And of course Dirk had been too muddled and wrong-footed to even _try_ to ask about it. So they’d just sat on the sofa and drank their tea and coffee in silence, until it was time for Dirk to go back to his own bed in his own apartment, without a goodnight kiss. He hadn’t slept very well that night _at all_ , as he’d spent the majority of it tossing, turning and eventually pacing, attempting to decode Todd’s behaviour.

Obvious answers presented themselves, of course. Perhaps Todd didn’t feel ready for more than kissing. Perhaps he wasn’t interested in sex at all- Dirk had long thought that to be the case for himself, after all. He’d honestly never thought to fantasise about (or even seriously consider) sex until Todd came along. He wondered if there was a word for that- Toddsexual? No, that would be bizarre. He’d have to look it up. Or maybe Todd _was_ interested in sex- just not with Dirk. That one would be… upsetting, but not entirely unbelievable.

There was, however, one key detail that didn’t quite fit with any of those theories. And that was that Todd, whenever he cut one of their kisses short, did not look disgusted, happy, neutral or anything of the sort. Maybe it was just Dirk reading him all wrong, but most of the time Todd just looked disappointed. But if he was disappointed that they’d stopped, then why did he keep stopping them? Trying to puzzle it out was, quite frankly, doing Dirk’s head in, even a week later.

No, he needed answers, and he needed them from Todd. But how to get Todd, an emotionally closed-off grouch (in the best possible way!) to stop avoiding the matter and _talk to him-_

He sprang to his feet, startling both of his bored-to-near-catatonia co-workers into wakefulness. “Brownies!”

Farah stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. Todd didn’t seem to be doing any better. “Brownies?” he repeated, as if hoping that saying the word aloud himself might decode its hidden meaning. Dirk tried the same trick himself a lot- the results were varied.

“We should make brownies!” Dirk explained, grinning. “Tonight! To take to the stakeout tomorrow!”

“Or we could just buy brownies,” Todd said, with a pointed look. “Like normal people who don’t wanna nearly set their kitchen on fire again.”

“Probably kind of unprofessional to eat candy on the job, too,” Farah added, none-too-helpfully.

Dirk scoffed. “Both of you need to start enjoying life. Come on, agency baking night, all three of us! And by all three of us, I of course mean myself and Todd, as Farah has _that thing_ tonight, right, Farah?” he stared at Farah, pleading with his eyes for her to catch his drift.

Fortunately, she was quick on the uptake. She glanced between him and Todd, eyes widening minutely. “Oh, uh. Yeah. That thing. Yes, I have to go do that. Guess you’ll have to do all that fun baking stuff without me.”

“Aww,” Dirk pouted, layering his tone with false sympathy. “Well, what a shame- just the two of us then, eh Todd?”

Todd narrowed his eyes. It was just possible that he was catching on to Dirk’s plan… “Don’t worry, Todd,” he said, cutting off protest before it could happen. “We’ll be careful this time! No drinking and baking! I’ll buy all the ingredients.”

He still didn’t seem convinced. Dirk gave him the widest, most innocent eyes he could manage. “…Please?”

Todd sighed, and Dirk knew he’d won.

* * *

 

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have done this in your apartment,” Todd griped. The effect was ruined by the fact that he was already unpacking the bag of ingredients, like assisting was his automatic impulse. Dirk had always rather liked that about him.

“Tradition,” Dirk beamed, unpacking his own bag of utensils. He was determined not to hit the same roadblocks as they had the first time. “We always do baking night at yours!”

“We’ve done it _once_.”

“Yes, at yours,” Dirk said, smugly. “So always.”

Todd snorted, shaking his head. Not in that slightly frantic way he did when they were in a tight spot. The other head-shake, the one Dirk would _tentatively_ describe as ‘fond’. It made Dirk feel indescribably better about his chances of getting straight answer at the end of all this.

“Maybe we should go ahead and decide what size cup we’re using to measure stuff,” Todd suggested, smirking. “Before things get messy again.”

“No need,” Dirk said, rummaging in the bag and proudly presenting Todd with the ring of brightly coloured plastic utensils he’d bought earlier. “I came prepared this time!”

Todd took the measuring cups, watching in bemusement as Dirk continued to unpack a range of mixing bowls, cutters, spoons, etc. “…Got everything?” he asked dryly.

Dirk held up his finger. Reached in once more. Pulled out a small, bright green plastic grater shaped like a tortoise. He set it delicately down with a beam. “Yes.”

Todd rolled his eyes with a little smile on his face, which was more or less the Todd equivalent of a warm hug. Oh yes, Dirk had a _very_ good feeling about this.

* * *

 

“How much flour?”

Dirk checked the recipe on his phone, narrowing his eyes. “Cup and a half.”

Todd frowned. “That’s all? Then why’d you get-?” he glanced across the counter at the heap of ingredients. “ _Three_ bags of it? Are we making seventeen trays?”

“Flour keeps for ages- it’ll come in handy next time!” Dirk said, handing Todd the two biggest measuring cups.

“Is that what this is about?” Todd asked, taking the half-cup one first and dipping it in the open bag of flour. “Are you trying to make sure we have to do this again?”

 _Yes._ “Well. We also under-floured our mixture last time because we lost most of it in that unfortunate food fight business. I planned ahead this time.”

 _“Whoa,”_ Todd cut in, eyes wide and full half-cup hovering over the bowl. “No, _no,_ Dirk, we are _not_ doing that again- do you know how long it took to get this place cleaned up? It was _everywhere!”_

“I’m not _planning_ on it,” Dirk placated, raising his finger ready to make one hell of a point. “And let’s not change the facts- need I remind you that _you s_ tarted it?”

Todd glared at him. Dirk pursed his lips and cocked his head. “…Technically.”

Todd eventually conceded the staring match with another eye-roll-hug-thing, and tipped the cup into the bowl. “Well, don’t think you’re slipping away before helping clean up the mess, this time,” he said, filling the larger cup.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Todd smirked. “Good.”

And he dunked the cup over Dirk’s head.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later the ingredients were measured and divided appropriately, and a somewhat pale-looking Todd was turning on the stove to melt the chocolate. “I don’t see why we’re not just using the microwave for this,” he said, ruffling his hair to dislodge another small cloud of flour. “I replaced it for a reason.”

“Yes, because the last one got shot,” Dirk said, selecting the least-chipped ceramic bowl he could find. Todd’s kitchen still hadn’t been fully restocked since the Rowdy Three’s visit. “And this is the proper way to do it- this is how Mary Berry melts chocolate! Probably.”

Todd shuddered, plonking a half-full pan of water on the stove. “Don’t say that name. Isn’t it enough that you made me watch four seasons of that show?”

“The Bake-Off is a British national treasure,” Dirk scoffed, ripping open the first chocolate bar. “It wouldn’t hurt you to have some culture. And I didn’t _make_ you do anything- we did stop! Three series early, at your request. Although you’re missing out, series six was-“

“How you could watch seven seasons of a cooking show and yet still be so _dangerously_ incompetent in a kitchen on your own is… staggering.”

“Seeing and doing are two very different things,” Dirk rationalised as he broke the chocolate into the bowl. “And no one’s good at everything! It would be unfair if I was a brilliant baker _and_ a brilliant detective!”

“So you decided to even the score and be neither?”

Dirk gasped, affronted. “I am an _excellent_ detective!”

“Yeah, by accident,” Todd said, but he didn’t sound angry or mean in any way. In fact he had a little fond smile on his face- the kind that maybe made Dirk want to push him back against the counter and do something slightly inappropriate, possibly. “Probably a good thing- I think you’d have _way_ too much power if you actually tried.”

Dirk propped the bowl of chocolate chunks on top of the pan, letting the boiling water do its job as he leaned into Todd’s space. “Was there… a _compliment_ in there, somewhere?” he asked, teasing.

He felt his cheeky bravado falter when Todd glanced down at his lips. “Somewhere,” he admitted, leaning back against the counter with that little smile still in place.

Dirk felt his own lips lift to match. Todd tracked the movement closely. It occurred to Dirk that this would be the _perfect_ moment to get another kiss going. Except… with the exception of the second one, that first night after Todd kissed him then pulled away, he’d never actually _started_ one. Usually he just waited for Todd to make a move and went with the flow, much like he did in most other aspects of his life. But then again he lived his life on trusting his instincts, and his instincts were practically _screaming_ that Todd needed to be kissed right this second. But how could he be certain..? Oh, _duh!_

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Todd blinked, and blushed. And after a second, he nodded. Dirk didn’t waste any more time.

He felt Todd’s sharp intake of breath, as if he was still surprised to be kissed despite the prior warning. Dirk pressed on, nibbling lightly on Todd’s bottom lip the way the other man sometimes did to him- it never failed to make his heart rate pick up, so he hoped Todd liked it as much as he did. He felt him relax, his small frame moulding to Dirk’s as he reached up, hands sliding into his hair at the nape of his neck. Dirk leaned further into him in response, curving around him, reaching out for something to hold with his flailing hands and finding his grip locked on the counter either side of Todd. He effectively had him pinned in place. His stomach did a little somersault at the idea. Interesting…

It must have been doing something for Todd too because he made a little choked-off sound in the back of his throat and tightened his fingers in Dirk’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Dirk was glad of his grip on the counter because his legs felt suddenly weak. He realised that his proximity had Todd pressed right up to the counter, back curved slightly over it, and somehow that made him feel even more lightheaded. He mirrored Todd’s noise, pressing in for more, feeling their hot breaths mingle, their bodies pressed together from head to toe, chest to chest and God he could _feel_ Todd’s heartrate pick up in tandem with his own-

Or he could, until Todd gently but firmly placed his hands on his chest and pushed him away.

Dirk blinked, finding it took a moment for his eyes to pull back into focus, and when they did it was to find Todd, pink and rumpled and almost _unfairly_ attractive, carefully avoiding eye contact with him. Which seemed… not good.

Todd cleared his throat, smoothing Dirk’s shirt down and withdrawing his hands. “We’d better…” he nodded towards the stove with a smile that seemed forced. “Chocolate’s nearly done.”

Dirk looked at the pan dumbly. He’d honestly forgotten it was there. “Yes. Chocolate,” he agreed, stepping back and releasing Todd from the circle of his arms. The other man turned his back on him and picked up a nearby spoon to stir the molten chocolate, leaving Dirk to gaze forlornly at the back of his head.

Now, Dirk was hardly an expert on relationships- romantic or otherwise. But a smashing kiss with a person you liked seemed like it should be followed by… well, he wasn’t sure what it should be followed by, but he would guess at least a smile. He was pretty sure it should _not_ be followed by a _forced_ smile and avoided eye contact. That seemed like the type of thing that would follow a bad kiss, with someone you didn’t like that much at all. He looked down at the floor, heart sinking, eyes stinging.

He started when he felt a slight pull on his hip. He glanced down. It was Todd’s hand, hovering by his side, index finger hooked through his belt loop and tugging softly. He succumbed to the pull and found himself at Todd’s side, their arms brushing with their slightest movements. He looked over, and found Todd smiling. It wasn’t quite the fond one from before, nor the smug one. If he had to compare it to his inner database of Todd smiles, he’d compare it to the one he saw that day in the forest. The day Todd looked him in the eye and told him he was his friend, and for a brief moment everything in Dirk’s world had clicked perfectly into place. He didn’t think Todd would look like that at someone he didn’t like.

So it wasn’t Dirk. He resisted the urge to collapse in relief.

Dirk returned the smile. They both turned back to the chocolate on the stove, something lighter between them. Todd didn’t let go of his belt loop, and Dirk didn’t ask him to.

He was one step closer to solving the case, he could _feel_ it.

* * *

 

“Dirk!” Todd complained as another glob of brownie mix dripped onto his sleeve. “Are you even _aiming_ for the tin?”

“Where else would I be aiming for?” Dirk muttered, brow furrowed and tongue poking out in concentration as he tipped the enormous bowl out.

“Me, apparently,” Todd said, but he didn’t let go of the tin, which Dirk was grateful for- he was struggling to pour the mix accurately even _with_ Todd’s hands steadying the tin on the counter. Another glob splattered onto his fingers, and he sighed. “Oh, for God’s- give it here,” he released the tin and wrestled the bowl from Dirk’s grip.

Not that there was much wrestling involved- Dirk surrendered without a fight. If Todd wanted to do the difficult bit he wasn’t about to stop him. He took over Todd’s job of holding the tin and watched as Todd did a much better job at pouring than he did- although he still managed to spill some up the sides. “Good assisting, Todd!” he beamed, shaking the tin a little to flatten the mixture out.

“I think the guy holding the tin is the assistant,” Todd argued, scraping out the bowl with the wooden spoon.

“Well, you held the tin first.”

Todd scowled and flicked the spoon at him, spattering his face with brownie mix. Dirk sputtered, wiping it away with his already filthy sleeve. “You know, you’re doing an awful lot of food-throwing for someone who complains about the mess.”

“Well, something about you makes me want to throw food at you.”

Dirk had no idea how Todd could make such mean comments sound so affectionate, but he managed it. And now Dirk wanted to kiss him again.

He saw his opening when Todd reached up to scratch his cheek and left a smudge of chocolate there. Before he could think too much about it he leaned in for a quick peck, kissing the stain away and pulling back with sweetness on his lips. Todd stared at him, and Dirk shrugged. “You had a little something on your cheek.”

“So do you.”

Dirk frowned. He was sure he’d wiped off the splatters. “Really?” he asked, reaching up to scrub his cheek again.

Todd raised the spoon again, tapping it against Dirk’s face, leaving a cool stickiness on his skin. “You do now,” Todd smirked.

The ‘what did you do that for?’ on the tip of Dirk’s tongue died when Todd set the bowl and spoon aside, put his hands on Dirk’s shoulders, and leaned up to kiss away the smudge just as Dirk had done moments before. Despite it being perhaps the most innocent kiss they’d shared in a month, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. It was… intimate. In a way he hadn’t quite prepared himself for. But it was nice. More than nice, actually.

As soon as the kiss was done Dirk reached over and dipped his fingers in the bowl, and swiped them over his cheekbone. “Missed a spot,” he said innocently.

Todd laughed. Actually _laughed._ It made Dirk feel a little giddy.

He felt even _giddier_ when Todd leaned up again, avoided the chocolate on his cheek altogether and kissed him right on the lips. This time his arms only flailed a moment before wrapping snugly round Todd’s waist, right where they belonged, and he felt the little rush in his chest again of feeling and _knowing_ that the universe put them on a path to each other for exactly this reason. It must have- there was no way holding Todd in his arms could feel this perfect unless they were _literally_ made for each other. He tilted his head to open the kiss, and trembled in delight when Todd responded. He felt Todd’s hands release his shoulders and slide up, coming to rest just above his collar, fingers brushing feather-light against his throat. Dirk gasped, reaching up to cradle Todd’s jaw in his hand clumsily. He wished for about the millionth time that he had a little more finesse, so he could do to Todd what was being done to him with the barely-there touches against his skin. But if he handled him a little ineptly Todd didn’t seem to care, not if the eager way he renewed his kissing efforts was anything to go by. Or the way he pressed so close that they were perfectly aligned from chest to toe, or the way he slid one leg between Dirk’s, or the way his fingers fiddled with Dirk’s top button.

It was when said button popped open that Dirk really checked in to the situation unfolding. The situation being that Todd was loosening his tie and going for the second button. Which seemed like something you’d do if you wanted said clothes to come _off._ Which Dirk was… _more_ than quite alright with, actually. In fact, perhaps he should be helping out. Yes, that was definitely a good idea. He made to reach for Todd’s buttons, but changed his mind and started helping with his own instead- he didn’t want to be _too_ presumptuous.

Although apparently he still made the wrong decision because Todd relinquished his grip on his shirt and flinched back like he’d been burned, leaving Dirk kissing the air for an embarrassing half second. When he opened his eyes Todd was facing the counter, face bright red as he fumbled with the dials on the oven and made a concentrated effort to look at anything _but_ Dirk. Again.

It was actually getting rather hurtful by this point.

He straightened his tie out self-consciously as Todd busied himself with getting the brownies in the oven. He did it too quickly and some of the mixture slopped out the side, but he seemed a little too distracted to notice or care.

Dirk thought about just letting the whole thing drop and the room subside into tense silence again, but he felt compelled to say something. He juggled a few possibilities about in his head.

“Todd…” he said carefully, nervously re-buttoning his shirt. “If you didn’t want to do anything more than what we do now, you’d tell me. Right?”

Todd looked at him, eyes wide, and Dirk suddenly realised what that must have sounded like. “Oh, God, I don’t mind!” he stammered, hands flailing. “I’m not judging, or implying anything, even! I just, well, it’s just- you can tell me if you’re uncomfortable! I won’t be mad! Or push you into anything you don’t want- but I’m not very good at reading people and if you’re upset with me it would be very helpful if you could just say so, or tell me what it is I’m doing wrong, or-!”

“Dirk, I’m not- I’m not mad at you,” Todd cut in, looking uncomfortable and… guilty? He didn’t like that expression on him one little bit. “You’re not doing anything wrong, and it’s not that I don’t want to- I just… it’s complicated. Look, let’s not talk about this now, ‘kay? We should probably try not to burn these again.”

Dirk agreed with a tight nod, but his mind was racing. So it wasn’t his fault, apparently. And Todd _did_ want to… something. So he hadn’t been imagining all the disappointed looks. But if he wanted to, and Dirk _clearly_ did as well, and they were both rational consenting adults who’d been doing… something approaching dating for the last month, then why on earth was Todd so set on sabotaging himself? Honestly, it was like their first case all over again- all that guilt on his shoulders, all the self-inflicted punishment, the steadfast belief that he was a shitty person who could not and would not ever truly be someone’s friend and-

Dirk smacked himself loudly in the forehead. “Oh, of course, _stupid!”_

Todd gave him one of his patented _what-the-actual-fuck_ looks.

“You,” Dirk said firmly, brandishing his finger in Todd’s face in a triumphant _I’ve-just-solved-the-case_ gesture. “ _Still_ don’t think you deserve to be happy.”

Todd blinked, mouth flopping a little. The moment of silence before he got a word out was awfully telling. “What, no, I don’t…”

“Which is, frankly, _absurd,”_ Dirk continued, gaining momentum. “Given that you’re the single best friend I’ve ever had, and always there to help even when you don’t necessarily want to be, and getting me out of scrapes and letting me sleep in your bed when I have nightmares-“

“What, I don’t do tha- hang on, do you _break into_ my apartment when you-?”

“It’s not breaking in if the window’s open, we’ve been through this,” Dirk waved him off. “Don’t worry, I always stick to my side of the mattress. It’s come in handy for your late-night pararibulitis attacks, anyway,” Todd gawped at him. Dirk frowned. “What? Did you think those glasses of water just _materialised?_ Well, I suppose stranger things have happened, but given the facts it seems far safer to assume-“

“Hang on, didn’t I give you a key to my apartment already? Why are you climbing through the window?”

Dirk frowned. He’d never really considered that. “…Habit. And while we’re at it, it’s _definitely_ not breaking in if I have a key- even if I seldom use it. But we’ve gone off topic.”

“Right, yeah, sorry- what were you saying before you got weird and stalker-y?”

Dirk rolled his eyes. Honestly, Todd could be such a drama queen. “I was saying that you’re still being unreasonably hard on yourself for mistakes you made a long time ago that you’ve been…” he thought about Amanda, shrugging. “ _Mostly_ forgiven for, and it’s negatively and unnecessarily affecting your life and happiness in the present.”

“It’s not _unnecessarily_ effecting anything-“

“Ah! But you admit it’s _negatively_ effecting you?” Dirk said triumphantly.

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” Todd groaned, clenching his hands in his hair like he wanted to tear it out.

“Well, you sulk for hours whenever your self-confidence issues get in the way of us doing something a little more entertaining,” Dirk rationalised. “That seems like a negative effect to me.”

Todd dropped his hands, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “It’s not… the worst thing that could happen.”

Dirk frowned, cocking his head. “Right, well… what’s your worst case scenario, then?”

“Worst case scenario,” Todd said slowly, avoiding eye contact. “We let this… _thing_ go too far, I realise I still have no goddamn idea how to be in a relationship with someone, and before we know it it’s over but we went too far and made things weird and now you can’t even be friends with me without thinking about what an insensitive asshole I am.”

“Todd,” Dirk said quietly, hands itching to reach out and hold him. “I would never-“

“I know you’d never-!” Todd hesitated, cursing under his breath. “I know you’d never _say_ that. Or even deliberately think it, but it’s true, okay? I’ve made people as nice as you hate me, and I didn’t need to do much more than just be myself, so…”

“If that’s the truth, I don’t think they were as nice as you seem to think,” Dirk frowned.

Todd’s forehead wrinkled, considering. “…Yeah, maybe not. But my point still stands.”

Dirk squinted. “ _Does it?”_

“Yes, Dirk,” Todd said, giving him a stern look that said _don’t argue._ “I don’t think… I don’t think I’m a completely shitty person anymore, believe it or not,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I actually think with you, and Farah and… everything we’ve done together, I think I’m better now. But some things don’t change, and I don’t wanna screw up what we already have by being an idiot because… well, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, too.”

It felt like that morning, after the hospital, before the diner, before the CIA and the pararibulitus turned their worlds upside down all over again. When Todd gave him the shirt, looked him in the eye and told him he was his friend for the second time, after everything they’d been through, all the truths Dirk had kept to himself. It felt like fondness and affirmation and everything Dirk ever wanted.

It also felt an awful lot like Todd giving up.

“Do you remember,” he asked quietly, hands twitching at his sides. “When we were digging up that first piece of the machine?”

“And you came up with that encouraging metaphor for life being a series of trap rooms that’ll eventually kill us?” Todd said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. I remember.”

“And for giving up being an easy road to nowhere?”

Todd frowned. “Yes…”

“Well, I think it’s a relevant point to bring up at this juncture.”

“Wait, you think I’m _giving up?”_

“Not necessarily,” Dirk said, shrugging. “If you told me right now that you wanted to go back to being just friends, I’d accept that. I’d accept you saying you wanted to stay as we are and just never have sex, too, honestly. It wouldn’t be giving up, if either of those things was what you _wanted._ But you don’t do you?”

He took Todd’s silence as permission to continue. “So… yes, if you stick with the metaphor and say that this decision is another puzzle to be solved, it could lead to both of us being metaphorically killed or maimed. But the point is it’ll lead us _somewhere._ So tell me, do you want this to be the trap that defeats you? Because if you can tell me, completely honestly, that you’re happy with the way things are now, I’ll never bring it up again and we can go back to Kansas and be farmers. But I don’t think you are happy, and if you don’t want to go back or stay put, then… really, the only way is forward.”

Todd looked at him thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the counter. “One more shovel in the dirt.”

Dirk beamed. “Yes, exactly.”

Todd tilted his head, and smiled. “You know… sometimes you almost sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

Dirk felt himself grinning too. “Sometimes, I think I actually do.”

“Don’t go spreading that around,” Todd teased, catching his tie in hand. “Might be bad for business.”

And then he kissed him, and all semblance of rational thought left Dirk’s head.

Some of it came stumbling back when Todd reached up and unbuttoned the top of his shirt again. He pulled back and planted his hands on Todd’s shoulders, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. “Wait, are you sure about this? I wasn’t trying to pressure you or-!”

“Dirk, I’m sure,” Todd said, stopping that sentence in its tracks. “Now just… shut up a second and kiss me.”

Dirk blushed. “Well, I mean, when you put it like _that_ -mmph!”

* * *

 

Given that the bed was only one half-wall and a room away, it took an embarrassingly long time for them to get there- probably because they refused to break contact and decided to try getting their clothes off before they’d even made it.

The return trip was much quicker, when thirty minutes later the fire alarm went off and Dirk- naked save for one stubborn sock and banging into just about every piece of furniture Todd owned- bolted for the kitchen, yelling at himself.

“- _Stupid Dirk,_ always having sex and forgetting brownies-!”

* * *

 

The apartment was predictably chaotic when Farah walked in, the rising sun painting it in pale yellow. “Todd?” she called, wandering over to the kitchen. “You up? We’ve gotta go pick up Dirk and get in position for the stakeout…” she tuned in to the sound of the shower running and stopped talking when she realised Todd probably couldn’t hear a word. She was kind of early- she’d just wait around a few minutes.

She reached the kitchen counter, and snorted when she saw the tray of blackened brownies discarded there. Figures. Still, there wasn’t as much flour lying around this time. Just a few splodges of brownie mix and some crumpled dish towels on the flo- wait. That wasn’t a dish towel.

She gave it a tentative nudge with the toe of her boot, and blushed furiously when it revealed itself to be one of Dirk’s undershirts, like she’d seen him wear that time the Rowdies saved him from the underground fire. She looked around, and sure enough, there was his button-up, slung across the breakfast bar. And there was his tie, a few feet to the left, and one of Todd’s flannel shirts on the back of the couch. The trail continued, across the floor and furniture. She averted her eyes from a pair of underwear dangling from the ceiling fan, and found her gaze landing on the empty bed and rumpled duvet, the sound of the shower still running in the next room and… voices coming from it-?

“…You know what,” she said, shaking her head and turning on her heel. “I’ll come back later.”

She darted for the safety of the hallway, shutting the door a little too hard behind her, cheeks flaming. She leaned back against it a moment, collecting herself.

After a minute she breathed out, straightened up, and got walking. Maybe she could hang out in Dirk’s apartment for a bit while they made themselves decent.

She was happy for them. She could’ve done without reading the evidence first-hand and feeling like a voyeur, but… good for them. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder…

What the hell was it about _baking_ that made those guys so horny?

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes about stuff in this chapter:
> 
> 1- I've been going back and forth on Dirk orientation headcanons, but for the purposes of this fic I've settled on his being demisexual, I think it fits- I can just picture him toddling through life fairly unemcumbered by sexy thoughts until Todd comes along and they get to know each other and one day Dirk has a random out-of-the-blue inappropriate thought about him and spends the rest of the week trying to figure out where it came from (and then eventually just accepting it and wanting to figure out if Todd ever has similar inappropriate thoughts about him) (spoiler alert: he does)
> 
> 2- the tortoise grater is based on one of my own impulse purchases. I have no regrets it's the cutest thing I own.
> 
> 3- Dirk likes GBBO series 6 because he thinks Tamal and Nadiya are adorable (he probs had a crush on Tamal tbh). He's still an avid follower of Nadiya but mostly for her colourful hijabs.
> 
> 4- I tried to make it v. clear in the fic but Dirk is like NOT AT ALL trying to pressure Todd into anything. But he can tell Todd's not happy and he wants to figure out why (and if it's his fault because he's so scared he's doing something wrong he doesn't know how to relationship)- and when he does figure out why he just wants to put a stop to it because he hates when Todd punishes himself needlessly. Dirk would legit drop the idea of ever having sex with Todd in a heartbeat if he thought Todd would be legitimately happier that way.
> 
> 5- TODD IS SO HARD TO WRITE WTF???? He's such a good character but he's all contradictions! I hope I did ok :/
> 
> That's about all I got to say on this right now! There's gonna be a part three at some point, not sure when- pretty busy atm but I'll fit it in one of these days!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed- maybe leave us a lil comment if you did? They sure do keep me going when I'm in a slump ^_^ Thanks for reading, kiddos! <3


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